


Running in the Dark (To Find East of Eden)

by PeroxidePrincess (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Gen, Historical Accuracy, Historical References, I'm adding my own backstory to the fanon, I'm doing my research y'all, Isolation, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Origin Story, also the violence isn't graphic I'm just throwing it out there bcs some people don't like it at all, lots of biblical subtext and references, mentions of torture, pretty heavy angst, this is crowley's story from creation to present day, with big gaps, you know I'm reading the fucking bible to do this properly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/PeroxidePrincess
Summary: He wears the suit of a bachelorTo hide the royal robes.His crown is one of thorns;His sceptre a rusted sword.His halo is a cloud of backAnd his wings a broken whiteHis eyes are suns of gold and myrrhPast the smokes of frankincence.Look into them: you'll seeHe's unwilling to beguile.His is the sin of eagernessThat blooms with softest wiles.Crowley hasn't changed, come Hell or high water.Hasn't told anyone what he's been through.Hasn't told his tale...





	1. Anima Mea

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome  
> this may take a long time, and may not even get finished, but this thing is gonna be Crowley's tale from beginning to present day.  
> I am taking the research seriously ((aka releasing my inner nerd)) and most of the facts should be correct, but don't hesitate to call out any mistakes :) Dates, however, are a different kettle of fish, and don't take them too seriously, but they should be roughly correct...  
> updates spastic, blah blah blah  
> also, this is unbeta'd and sometimes unedited, so any mistakes are mine  
> I decided that Crowley's pre-fall name is Karmi, which should mean "gardener" in hebrew  
> also, although I doubt that anyone's gonna do this in this fandom, I am not tolerating any discrimination of any religion, idea, etc. etc. just saying.  
> hope you enjoy, anyone who reads this!  
> also, "anima mea" means 'my soul' in latin  
> -Daemonium

Light

Bright

_COME, KARMI_

Noise

Must

_ARISE_

Dizzy

Confusion

White

Light

Dazzling, glittering, colour

Beauty

Down

Must

Dizzy

Light

Strange

Tangled

Meaning!

Confused

Words?

Noise

Focus

Clear

Bright

Happy

Happy?

Understanding

Knowledge!

Karmi gets up, the light blinding him. He stumbles, and realises that he's hindered by a...a body? Pale, smooth, like the light. He  _is_ the light!

A laugh tumbles unbidden from him, a startled, clear sound of surprise, joy, wonder, and lifts up the strange concentration of brightness for closer inspection.

_He can move it!_

He laughs again, then stops.

Noise!

He is powerful, he can do, he can make, he has purpose. He pats the surroundings tentatively with the hand - that  _is_ what it is called, because he knows - grinning in delight at the long, angular limbs that he can control. Then, he feels something fluttering behind him, and twists around, something large and soft brushing against him. Moves it, too, watching it expand, glowing, trembling,  _alive._

Karmi smiles.

The colours, the music, the lights, plain and iridescent, gentle and sonorous, dull and incandescent, play around him.

_This is life._


	2. In Flagrante Delicto (Mea Culpa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Flagrante Delicto (Mea Culpa) - in the act of commiting a crime (by my fault)  
> LATIN, people!  
> shit takes a turn...  
> I feel like I've taken pretty big liberties with the canon and the fanon, but hey, it's all gonna be good for what's happening at the end (of the fic)...  
> also, there's this thing called a Ninefold Celestial Heirarchy, and it's basically the structure of the angelic heirarchy.  
> It's on wikipedia...  
> so, never fear, I AM DOING MY RESEARCH

Just like everything else in the universe, the Garden is beautiful.

Well.

When it comes to Karmi, he can't bear the sight of Heaven. He can feel the gaze of all the other angels, the ones higher up igniting in flames, the archangels far too stuck up for their own good even though they are only of the second rank, immediately his superiors. Feels bile in his throat at the endless cries of the seraphim, their six winged ranks creating an almost hideous cacaphony of noise. The cherubim - all they have ever done is look down their perfect, perfect noses at him and some of them, the older ones, would do that and pretend that no, they did  _not_ have three other head poking out on the other dimension and bleating in that moronic way. The other angels just brush past him, with such arrogance and annoyance that Karmi wonders what exactly shoved a stick up their snooty angelic arses.

Some of the angels agree with him, plotting, beautiful heads bent together. It eases Karmi somewhat that a rebellion is brewing, that he's not the only one who can see just how corrupt everything Up There is, but he can't join them. He doesn't want power, or hoards of followers. In the end, he just want his Garden and everything in it.

Because the Garden, the Garden is peaceful, the Garden is beautiful, the Garden is serene. The birds warble and tweet at him from the lush verdure, eyeing him with beady black eyes. Felines stalk like shadows through the trees, cattle and other beasts amble aimlessly, doughy forms heavy, eyes mellow and kind. He has long ago learned how to become one of these animals, learned to coil and slither with the sinewy grace of a serpent, to perch and examine with the fastidiousness of a bird, all the while trying to distance himself as much as possible from any angelic life forms.

But that is hard to do when there's a cherub with golden hair, incandescent wings and such kind, kind but sharp, blue eyes. Blue eyes as blue as the sea, and with just as much sparkle. But what is an angel, a mere gardener, to the burning cherubim?

Nothing.

So Karmi watches him from afar, twisting his serpentine coils and lurking.

* * *

 A snake hangs idly on the branch above two cherubim, eavesdropping and not being able to hear anything, eyes with black slits in pools of radiation yellow against noxious lime scales.

They are discussing something in hushed tones, and the one on the right with the flaming red hair looks slightly scandalised at what her golden-haired companion has to say.

He catches odd bits of the conversation, hearing the dreamy tone of Golden - his name sounds like Azi...some snobby angelic name, whatever, Karmi couldn't care less - as he rambles on about something, or rather, by the look on Red's face, some _one._

And, by the looks of it, she has had enough.

"But you cannot do that! You are a cherub, and you cannot simply feel such...strange emotions towards some...some  _commoner!_ A mere angel, no rank, no status, you do not even know its  _name!"_

Karmi feels a surge of anger. This common angel, this one that they are talking about like it's a piece of meat up for grabs, is probably worth twice as much as they are-

Golden frowns, beautiful face twisted ugly by something dark, and mutters a dark, low phrase.

Red makes an exasperated noise.

"I do not care! Golden eyes or no golden eyes, you cannot do this!"

Karmi has had enough. He coils himself up in disgust and slithers away.

* * *

Karmi sits on the branch, trying not to smile as a speckled turquoise egg cracks, something inside chirping frantically. Despite his best efforts, a broad grin worms its way onto his face as a pink, naked head pokes out, its beak clacking with just as much ferocity as its mother's, who pecks indignantly at the intruding angel's arm.

A loud fanfare cuts through the scene, and Karmi scrambles up, up to see what Heaven is up to now.

The clouds circle and darken, ominous and threatening, and he can see the guardian cherubim start from their posts on Earth, surprised, unsure as to what they need to do. Lightning spears the desert around, the waves of the ocean crash and shudder, rising high, high above the coastline with a furious, raging din like the rage of a thousand Gods.

Suddenly, the clouds tear apart with a sickening roar, and an angel - no, a  _seraph_ falls through, wings spread, four of them burning as the other two flare out, trying to prevent the inevitable-

The ground splits with a shudder and a groan, and the falling angel is swallowed up.

The gardener of Eden feels something like contempt settle in his chest. Who was this noble idiot to challenge God? An interesting plan, but an impossible one. 

A second angel drops out of the sky, and Karmi freezes.

Contempt is quickly replaced by fear.

And then a whole flurry of beating wings fills the skies, spinning and singing, before disappearing into the Chasm.

_Fallen._

* * *

 Every angel has a virtue - and a vice.

Karmi's ones are one and the same, if he trusts his brother (one of two, but this one is long dead to him by now with his glittery auburn locks and malicious, almost slitted, green eyes that for some reason everyone loves, and the other is...something else). Curiousity can be of help when it comes to it, but in the end, all it does is put everyone else in some kind of danger, and yourself too.

He never realised how true that was until now, crawling across the open Earth because of a nagging, insatiable feeling in his chest to get to a yawning opening in the ground.

His skin is rough, burned and raw by the time he gets there and realises that he has wings and he could have nust flown.

Or maybe not, he decides as the red-haired cherub at the Western Gate of Eden swivells her head round and stares at the spot where he was only moments ago.

The chasm, meanwhile, beguiles him with its almost sultry darkness, and, deep inside, he can almost see something move, like a foetus, growing and awaiting its time.

The rubble at the sides slopes gently down, an almost perfect path down, away from all the fickleness of life.

Karmi can't resist its call.

He straightens up, spreads his wings, stretches them just in case, and begins to saunter vaguely downward.

 

If he's going out of town, he might as well do it in style.


End file.
